Monday, July 27, 2009
Can I take back what I said about being a glass-half-full kinda girl?
(Baby pigs make everything better.)
Remember my last post? The one where I was all upbeat and rainbows came beaming out of my ass? Little did I know that, shortly after writing it, my manager and I would get into an argument over the pros and cons of my potential transition into another position. (Say that ten times fast.) He kept going on and on about how great it would be, how adding me to the current team of leads would make us all rock stars. Or all-stars. Or shooting stars. Whatever.
In my usual sarcastic manner, I said, “Yeah, it’ll be great for YOU GUYS.” Because the truth is, I know this hotel. And I know the ins and outs of this department better than almost anyone. I can write schedules, check people in, answer phones, give directions, respond to a fire alarm, retrieve luggage, and complete payroll all with one hand tied behind my back while the other shoves a Hershey’s bar down my throat. I’M THAT GOOD. Add me to any team in this here department and we’ll shine.
I’m not trying to sound like a conceited ass (that’s just a bonus), but seriously? I’m smart and self-sufficient. (This is what I’ll sound like while interviewing elsewhere.) I catch on quickly and I have the added benefit of a little thing called EXPERIENCE. I’ve worked here, in this specific hotel, for five years. I’ve come to know a thing or two.
So, there we were, going back and forth, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a full-blown debate between what a positive move this would be for the hotel and how much it sucked ass for me personally. After all was said and done, I left work and drove right into a state of depression, which then impacted my entire weekend.
Suddenly, every move The Husband or I made became overshadowed by the fact that I had been laid off and even if I decide to stay employed here, my schedule is completely fucked. SO ENJOY THIS WHILE IT LASTS. Goodbye nights, weekends, and holidays. It was fun while it lasted.
Now, excuse me while I go put my head in an oven, because damn it, this sucks.
Somebody, please, remind me to be grateful that I’m still employed.
(If they weren't sleeping in their own feces, I'd totally cuddle up next to 'em.)